Mass Effect: Drabbles
by skybound2
Summary: A catch all for my drabbles, double-drabbles, triple-drabbles, or vignettes set in the Mass Effect universe. Characters, pairings, and plots will vary. Wildly. New entry includes: Kaidan remembering his time with Shepard. ME3 Demo Spoilers.
1. Security Blanket

**Characters**: Kasumi  
**Word Count**: ~100  
**Rating**: T  
**Author's Note:** In an effort to not clog FFN too much, I've decided to make one catch all dump site for my Mass Effect drabbling, double-drabbling, and triple-drabbling needs! (Namely, any and all independent stories that I wright for ME which are 300 words or less in length, will get dropped here. There will likely be no rhyme nor reason to this fics. Sound good? Great!

This piece is a response to the ME_Challenge over on LJ. One of the prompts was: "False Security" this drabble is the result :-)

* * *

**Security Blanket**

* * *

It wasn't healthy. She knew that. And it wasn't what Keiji would have wanted. She knew that too.

That didn't stop the warmth from spreading through her body whenever she'd access the graybox. The short-lived feeling of euphoria she'd get when she'd hear his voice…see his face.

It had gotten so she needed to access it first thing in the morning and last thing in the evening. Otherwise she'd be agitated all day, and unable to sleep soundly at night.

It wasn't healthy, but having a part of him – even just a flicker of a memory – made her feel safe.

~End


	2. Missing Instinct

**Characters**: Jack  
**Word Count**: ~200  
**Rating**: T  
**Author's Note:** ME_Challenge over on LJ kept me busy today. One of the prompts was: "Instinct cannot keep me from falling" this double-drabble is the result.

* * *

**Missing Instinct**

* * *

Jack wanted nothing to do with love. It was one of those emotions that, in her experience, lead to only two things. Pain and anger. What the hell was good about that?

You never needed to go far to see how it screwed people up. Hell, there were plenty enough examples of that on board the _Normandy_.

There was the drell, brooding non-stop over his long dead wife. The thief hugging that damn box of hers like a teddy-bear every night. The cheerleader and jock circling each other like varren in a pit. The quarian making moon eyes at a completely oblivious Shepard, who was in turn making moon eyes at the completely non-reciprocating asari. And don't even get her started on the merc and that gun of his.

And none of it ever amounted to shit. Even if you managed to make it work, it always ended the same way – death or separation. For a bunch of hard-ass soldiers, you'd think that it'd be a basic survival instinct to avoid falling in with that sappy romance shit.

She didn't get it; didn't see the point.

So why the hell did it hurt so bad to think she never would?

~End


	3. Intangible

**Characters**: Garrus  
**Word Count**: 300  
**Rating**: K  
**Author's Note:** Done for ME_Challenge over on LJ. The prompt was: "Crisis of Faith."

* * *

**Intangible**

**

* * *

**Faith is a funny thing. It's not a concept that turians dwell upon. Their society is steeped so heavily in procedure and protocol, that it doesn't leave much room for things as intangible as that. Still, there are those that cling to the old ways, and try to impress upon the younger generations that the Spirits are there, always. Silent sentinels.

It never mattered to him before. He, like so many others of his generation, didn't see the point. Faith couldn't line up a target at 200 meters, faith wouldn't pull your ass out of a firefight, and faith wasn't enough to quell the evil in the universe.

But the moment Garrus laid eyes on her he felt something inside of him snap into place. A tiny twist in his gut that allowed him – for once in his life – to understand what it meant to believe in something. _Someone_. It had been a revelation.

Shepard possessed a strength of conviction that other's lacked. A conviction that shone with such intensity it was nearly blinding to see, but it hurt more to look away. And he knew, with complete certainty, that she could accomplish the impossible. He'd never had faith in much before; but he had faith in _that_.

But now, as the empty coffin is ejected into space – the symbols of the Alliance and the Spectres crossing on top – and all around him a captive audience of both those who knew her, and those who only wished that they did, mourn – some stoically, others with softly shaking shoulders – he finds that he has no room left in him for the intangible.

With a final glance at the slowly drifting box, he slings his pack over his shoulder, and makes his way to the docks. He has a shuttle to catch.

~End


	4. High Heels

**Characters**: Kasumi and F!Shepard  
**Word Count**: 100  
**Rating**: K  
**Author's Note:** Done for ME_Challenge over on LJ. The prompt was: "These shoes don't fit right."

* * *

**High Heels**

**

* * *

**"These shoes don't fit right." Shepard pried at the pointed monstrosities currently choking her feet, but couldn't get them to budge.

"You're just not use to wearing something besides combat boots, Shep."

A growl echoed through the shuttle bay. "That's because combat boots are _useful_, Kasumi. How the hell am I supposed to fight in these?"

The purple line that adorned the thief's mouth flattened as her lips rose in a smile. "You're not. Didn't anyone ever teach you that sometimes you can get more flys with honey than with vinegar?"

"Oh yeah? Well those people never owned a flamethrower."

~End


	5. What Big Teeth You Have

**Characters**: Garrus and Shepard  
**Word Count**: 150  
**Rating**: K  
**Author's Note:** Done for ME_Challenge over on LJ. The prompt was: "Telling human fairy tales to an alien." This is an all dialogue experiment! I may have failed horribly at this. *shrugs*

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**What Big Teeth You Have**

**

* * *

**"Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. This big…varren-like-thing…is dressed up as what?"

"Her grandmother."

"And that entails…?"

"Umm, a long dressing gown, glasses, and a big bonnet on his head."

"Okay...and it's dressed like that, because…?"

"Because it ate her grandmother before she got there."

"And then it ate _her_ too?"

"Yes."

"So where exactly does the wood-chopper come in?"

"He just happened to walk by the grandmother's house."

"And he normally dices up varren?"

"No, he'd been hunting it for a while. Got lucky."

"And the Grandmother and the girl came out alive?"

"Yes."

"And the varren too?"

"_Weeeell_, at first. But they filled his stomach up with stones, and that pretty much killed him."

"You humans have _really_ strange bed time tales. You know that, Shepard?"

"Oh, that's nothing, Garrus. Wait until you hear the one about the mermaid who got turned into sea foam."

~End


	6. Cold Reflection

**Characters**: Miranda  
**Word Count**: ~300  
**Rating**: K  
**Author's Note:** Done for ME_Challenge over on LJ. The prompt was: "Blue with cold."

* * *

**Cold Reflection**

**

* * *

**The air in the port side cargo bay was no different from the rest of the ship, but to Miranda, it felt colder. She could feel little bumps rising along the skin of her arms, and had the inane desire for hot chocolate.

But she was rooted in place, standing only a meter from the hermetically sealed tank. The krogan inside was impressive, she could tell that even through the glass. His brow crests proportional. His skin and plating healthy. He was not overly large, at least not by krogan standards, but what muscles she could see were well-defined.

She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging her hands to her sides as she continued to stare at the result of Okeer's work.

Of all of the tank-bred krogan he had created on Korlus, just one – _this one_ – was deemed worthy of his creator. Deemed worthy enough to be considered a 'true' krogan.

Designed. Engineered. _Bred_ to be the very best that science and krogan genetics could accomplish. Supposedly trained – prepared – while in this artificial womb, to be the most capable warrior the crazed scientist could produce.

The idea left a nauseating taste in her mouth.

The longer she focused on the unaware creature behind the glass, wondering what would happen if – _when_ – Shepard decided to release it, the harder it became to focus on his face; until all that she could see was her own reflection staring back at her.

An intense shiver ran up her spine, breaking her attention. Arms dropped back to her sides, Miranda turned on her heel and left the cargo bay; determined to ignore the creature until its release became a reality.

She'd have to have EDI check on the climate control systems, however, as clearly there was a malfunction in this portion of the ship.

~End


	7. Appetite

**Characters**: Jacob  
**Word Count**: ~300  
**Rating**: K  
**Author's Note:** Jacob observes Shepard and Miranda.

* * *

**Appetite**

**

* * *

**Jacob couldn't look away. He tried, really he did, but he was suffering from some sort of masochistic tendency at the moment, and no matter what he did, his eyes kept drifting back to the pair by the mess hall counter.

It wasn't that they were doing anything..._overt_ or anything. Sure, occasionally Shepard's hand would linger on her arm, or brush over her hip. But beyond that, they weren't doing anything worth noting.

Well, if you discounted the fact that Shepard was teaching _Miranda_ how to make some kind of pasta dish.

The Commander had an unholy love of pasta, to the point that he had nearly driven Gardner mad with his constant dish requests; and now Shepard was responsible for 'making his own damned dishes,' as the Mess Sergeant had declared that he was done being so accommodating.

Miranda, however, didn't seem to be suffering from the same issue. Jacob watched, his hand gripping his fork a littler harder than necessary, as she leaned over the saucepan, her normally loose hair bundled back into a low ponytail; that porcelain perfect face of hers flushed pink from the heat of the pan. She wrinkled her nose as she stirred the pot, and turned to ask Shepard something inaudible to Jacob's ears.

Shepard released the knife he'd been using to chop peppers, and slipped to her side, sliding his hand around her waist and pressing his body close; whispering in her ear. The resulting laugh that escaped Miranda was light, and airy, and like nothing Jacob had ever heard from her before.

With more force than he intended, he shoved himself back from the table, pushing his half-eaten dinner away from him, and towards the occupants seated on the other side; an indignant 'Hey!' trailing behind him as he headed for the armory.

He really wasn't that hungry anymore.

~End


	8. When the Cat's Away

**Characters**: Garrus, F!Shepard, and Jacob  
**Word Count**: ~300  
**Rating**: T  
**Author's Note:** Done for ME_Challenge over on LJ. The prompt was: "You did WHAT? !" (Also a little bit of reference to "Brotimes with Garrus, Joker, and Jacob.")

* * *

**When the Cat's Away…**

**

* * *

**

"You did WHAT? !"

Until that very moment, Garrus would have sworn on his family honor (such as it was) that humans were incapable of turning purple without enough force being applied to their windpipe such as to knock them unconscious. The shade coloring Shepard's face, however, proved him very, very wrong.

He didn't know that their eyes could twitch independently of one another either for that matter. Learn something new everyday.

"Listen, Shepard, it…uh…_really_ isn't as bad it seems. Operative Taylor and I-"

"Don't bring me into this, bro."

Garrus shot the other man a pleading look, only to have Jacob toss him a wink and a smile, which quickly turned to a look of concern when Shepard rounded on him, hands clenched into fists by her side.

"So, you had nothing to do with this, huh, Jacob? Nothing at all?"

"No, Commander. I was working in the armory when-"

"Oh, please!" Shepard tossed her hands up in the air, and marched towards the elevator, pounding the call button. "You expect me to believe that you were _working_ while the CIC was turned into party central? Come on! Joker's passed out on the Nav-map for Chrissakes! I leave you guys alone with the ship for _one night_, and this-" As if on cue, the elevator doors chose that moment to open, the contents of which stopped Shepard mid-rant.

"Garrus?"

"Yes, Shepard?"

"Do you wanna tell me why there's a varren on my ship?"

"Umm…"

"And why it's wearing a tu-tu?"

"Well…"

"And is that Mordin's shirt?"

"You see…"

"Are those my dog tags! ?"

Garrus opened his mouth to say something, _anything_, to help explain the situation, when something goopy, and wet, and well – _pink_ – dripped off the ceiling, and fell onto Shepard's head.

The look she gave him could have turned most people into sniveling, apologetic messes.

"I can explain."

~End


	9. No Cure for This

**Characters**: M!Shepard (references Thane, Mordin)  
**Word Count**: 150  
**Rating**: K  
**Summary:** Shepard's feelings for Thane run deeper than he lets on.

* * *

**No Cure for This**

**

* * *

**Shepard tries to ignore it. Tries to pretend that the urge isn't there. That he doesn't feel just a little short of breath every time he crosses the threshold into Life Support.

But the more they talk, the more Shepard gets to know the drell, the stronger the feeling becomes. Grows until it's nearly a tangible thing. Warms his skin with its heat, and slowly coaxes his brain out of its denial.

Hands clasped in a semblance of prayer draw his eyes, and he wonders what they would feel like held in his own. A rasping voice makes him wonder how soft, or slick, a tongue would be.

It's a cough, a tiny burst of air from the other man's throat in the middle of an innocuous conversation, that propels him into action. Sends him scurrying for answers. For knowledge.

For help.

"Mordin – What do you know about Kepral's Syndrome?"

~End


	10. Fail or Win?

**Characters**: F!Shepard/Garrus  
**Word Count**: ~200  
**Rating**: T (edging on M)  
**Author's Note:** Smut-lite fill for a prompt over on **masskink** (ages ago) that requested fail!sex between F!Shep and Garrus. This weird dialogue/stage-direction ficlet was the result. Not too graphic, but yeah - it's a kink fill. So keep that in mind.

* * *

**Fail...or Win?**

* * *

"OW! Geez, Garrus, watch the mandibles."

"Sorry, Shepard. Maybe if you just...move a little...to the right...then we could..."

"Oh! Oh, that, that is..." *deep breath* "Mmm..."

"Better?"

"Don't. Sound. So. Smug. Turian. Oh, gods, yes!"

*heavy breathing* "Wait a, wait a minute, Shepard. Slow...slow down."

"Unh!"

"I said wait! OW! Oh _shit_! Stop!"

"Garrus? What -" *gasping for air* "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong? What's wrong is that I don't _bend th_at way, Shepard! Please. Just...take it easy, okay?"

"Sure. Sorry." *nibbles* Maybe I can make it up to you?"

"Mmm. Okay – that's...Ohhhh, that's _much_ better."

*strokes * "Why, Officer Vakarian. Are you still happy to see me?" *smiles*

*blinks* "I have no idea what you are referencing, Shepard, but..." *pants * "you can" *groans * "keep doing that."

"Thought..." *lick* "that you" *lick* "would like that..."

*growls* "Come 'ere." *grabs, flips*

"OH! Oh. Ohhh..." *bucks*

"Oh, fuuuck!" *pins*

"Just. Like. That. Garrus!"

"Shep- Shepard...I can't...can't...need to..." *nuzzles*

"Yes!"

*bites down*

"OWWW! FOR THE LOVE OF...!"

*sheepish* "Oops?"

*calming breath* "Okay. Maybe we need to lay down some ground rules..."

~End


	11. What You See

**Characters**: F!Shepard/Kaidan  
**Word Count**: ~250  
**Rating**: K  
**Author's Note:** Done for ME_Challenge over on LJ. The prompt was: "What you see is what you get."

* * *

**What You See**

* * *

"I won't pretend to be someone I'm not. Not even for you, Kaidan."

"I'm not asking you to, Shepard."

She scoffs, her arms lifting to cross over her chest. "Sure seems that way."

"Can't we just – can we start over? I know that things got a… a little heated, back on Horizon." She looks past him, focusing on the blinking lights of the Citadel rapid transit stand instead; wary of meeting his eyes, not wanting to let on how much that memory still stings. "But when you contacted me, I thought -"

One of his hands reaches up, towards her cheek. She remembers how his skin felt, coasting across hers in the dim light on board the _Normandy_. Stealing away any moment they could; lost in a haze of love, want, lust, and need.

The pull of it is nearly magnetic, and she wants to lean in – to close those infinitesimal bits of space, and just be with him again. But she can't. Not yet. Not until she's sure, so she tilts her head away. Hating him a little for making her feel shaky in her own skin. "What you see is what you get with me, Kaidan. Do you think you can deal with that?"

Kaidan closes the gap, grasping her hand and lacing their fingers together. A heady sensation that feels like coming home fills her at the touch. "It's all I've ever wanted."

His lips, when they meet hers, are as soft, and sweet as she remembers.

~End


	12. Little Plastic Castle

**Characters**: Shepard's Fish  
**Word Count**: ~150  
**Rating**: K  
**Author's Note:** Done for ME_Challenge over on LJ. The prompt was: "Shepard's fish eat each other." Title is cribbed from the Ani DiFranco song of the same name.

* * *

**Little Plastic Castle**

* * *

Hungry. So very, very hungry.

It knew nothing else but this ever-present ache in the pit of its stomach. It would open its mouth; warm, salty water filtering through its gills. But no food. Never food.

In the distance, a speck – dark, dancing in the swirling water – caught its eyes. It raced; hope bloating its bladder, only to deflate as the speck was sucked away. Deep into the air churning vent suctioned along the edge of its world.

Weak, desperate, its eyes roved the vast expanse of blue; settled on a wisp of fin, sweeping back and forth between the curling blades of green. A burst of energy, the last it possessed, propelled it forward. Mouth open, teeth bared, it closed upon the fin, and the body to which it was attached. The fin beat at the inside of its mouth, before it was swallowed down.

Full, it swam again.

~End


	13. Voyeur

**Characters**: Joker  
**Word Count**: ~170  
**Rating**: T (edging on M)  
**Author's Note:** Fill for a 'prompt' over on **masskink** (ages ago) that was likely not really a prompt (it was simply: ಠ_ಠ), but which I felt the need to fill anyway. Implied smut, but nothing graphic.

* * *

**Voyeur**

* * *

Joker couldn't believe his luck. With his bones, it was almost entirely impossible to catch anyone unaware. The uneven gait and the loud footfalls had a tendency to give him away. But, not this time.

No, **this** time, his presence seemed to have gone completely unnoticed. Well, either that, or they just didn't give a damn.

He almost felt annoyed that up until this moment he had no clue that these two had been...well, _fucking like bunnies_. Or Varren. Or any other kind of pseudo-cuddly animals that you could think of. After all, he liked to think that he was fairly well-informed in regards to the -ahem- comings and goings on the Normandy.

Just goes to show, you never _really_ know anybody.

As he tilted his head to the side, to get a better view of a position that he could only ever dream of achieving, his eyes widened like saucers.

He had no idea that a sniper scope could be used like **that**.

Damn. He loved this ship.

~End


	14. You Are Here

**Characters**: F!Shepard and Grunt  
**Word Count**: 100  
**Rating**: K  
**Author's Note:** Just a little drabble born out of the occasionally maddening map system in ME2. And shopping malls. Once thought this would be a longer fic, but it's happy at 100 words, so who am I to argue?

* * *

**You Are Here**

* * *

You. Are. Here.

The blinking light on the map identifying their location within the markets was mocking them.

What the hell good was _that_? Stupid thing, telling them where the hell they were without bothering to label it with a _name,_ or any identifying markers, or anything even remotely _useful_.

Shepard had been searching every level of the damn Wards for what felt like hours, and still: _nothing_. Her patience had nearly reached its limits long ago, and the non-stop blinking light was simply the last straw.

Shepard heaved a deep breath. "Grunt?"

"Yes, Battlemaster?"

"Smash this thing."

"Yes, Battlemaster!"

~End


	15. Used To

**Characters**: Kaidan and James Vega (references Kaidan/F!Shepard)  
**Word Count**: 100  
**Rating**: K  
**Author's Note:** Completed this for the prompt 'I used to' over at **me_challenge**. References a scene from the ME3 demo, so vague spoilers for that.

* * *

**Used To**

* * *

"You know the Commander?"

Kaidan's eyes drift over her retreating form. A memory, fuzzy around the edges like one of those old-fashioned vids Shepard's so fond of, flickers to life:

_The slide of flesh against flesh. Warm skin, entwined. Pressed together so tightly that he can feel her pulse thrumming through every inch._

With all the shit they've been through - everything they've worked for, fought for, _survived_- Kaidan thinks it shouldn't be a memory as simple as her hand tangled with his own that strikes him so hard. But it is. And it does.

He sighs. "I used to."

~End


End file.
